The story of Selaerosona Windrunner: Returning to the Sun
by DarkLadySylvanas96
Summary: Years after being raised by her mother, Sylvanas Windrunner, Selaerosona returns after being kidnapped and whisked away into the past, along with her friend, Surmor. They find themselves dealing with aspects, black dragons, horde and alliance feuds, a mysterious man named Zarus,& finally, Sela's father, Kael'thas. Read to find out what happens in this sequel to The story of Sela!


**HELLO EVERYONE :D long time no see :D as promised, I have worked for months on the story plot of this sequel AND A 3000 WORD FIRST CHAPTER :D HOPE YOU ALL LOVE IT! REMEMBER TO READ AND REVIEW! I ALWAYS LOVE HEARING FROM YOU ALL :3 now READ**

As the moon rose over the pine trees, faint cries of victory echoed from the ruins of the once great kingdom of the living, known as Lordearon. The lifeless corpses of elves, orcs, humans, drawves, trolls and demons, littered the silent city of ruins.  
A large, green orc, quietly exited from the depths of the city that he had fought and won, alongside his people.

In the silence, he walked amongst the bodies, his blue eyes showing the evident sorrow and pain he felt for each soul that had given their mortal body in the battle against the demonic forces of the dread-lord once known as Varimathras. A low growl of cold triumph, rose in the orc's throat, as he remembered the recent battle that resulted in the demon lord's death.  
Good riddance, were the only words the orc had left for the demon.

The Orc continued walking, his anger growing more fierce with every pair of eyes that were glazed over with the terror and agony each that soul had experienced before they had fallen.  
He was snapped from his inner thoughts of anger, when a voice cracked through the silence brought by the night, followed by the sound of harsh, ragged breathing. The blue eyes of the large, green being fell upon gorey body of a female troll. Her still soft face, though splattered with blood that was both a demon's and her own, revealed she was just barely of age to fight in battle.

"War...chief..."

The Warchief rushed to her side, and kneeled down next to her, raising his arms above her. His hands glowed, as his shamanist powers began to summon forth the elements of healing to help the child, who's heart still beat, faintly, in her chest.

But, a four fingered hand, with blood covering them, shakily raised to lay on his hand. The Warchief snapped his gaze to her face in surprise, only to look upon her small, pained smile which caused the great Orc's heart to give a seize of empathy.

"Nah...Warchief...chu save dat...for some-bodie who's got ta chance...Tul'ka wood radda die...dis way...den die...wastin' chor voodoo."

The orc looked like he might argue, when she cut him off again, as fear shot through her eyes like a bolt of lightning.

"Will chu stay...ere witd me? ...I...don't wanna...be alone..."

So there the mighty Warchief of the Horde stayed, by the dying body of the girl, whom merely found solace in having someone with her, in her last moments.

A few moments later, the small voiced cracked the air again.

"It...it be ...gone..."

The Orc nodded in agreement.

"Yes...for now, the demon threat is gone."

"No...not da de-mons..."

Thrall turned his confused blue eyes upon her.

"What is gone, then?"

Tul'ka wheezed, as she tried to move her head to look around.

"Me neck...lace. Da one da pretty elf gave me...back in Sha...tahrah...I promised her...dat I'd keep it safe..."

Thrall blinked, and carefully began to look around, as his large hands felt about through the grass. Eventually, his hand brushed upon a piece a wood attached to a leather strap. Lifting the pendant by the strap, he gazed in awe, as the light from the moon revealed the vivid details that were skillfully carved into the piece of what looked to be an emerald. The various cuts and details imprinted into the green gem, caused it to take the form of a miniature dragon-hawk, sitting idly in flight.

A small, gurgled sigh of relief came from the trembling lips of the young troll laying beside him, as her eyes fell upon her tiny treasure.

"Ya found...it...tank ya, Warchief...I don't tink...I could rest eazie..without knowin'

Her relief in such a simple thing, caused Thrall's heart to give another painful squeeze of sorrow. He was tempted to try healing her again, but even at this point, he knew it wouldn't yield the result he sought.

The young Tul'ka's fate was sealed in the Deamon's foul essence and her own blood.

Even as the moon rose higher in the sky, and the breeze became colder with each gentle blow, the Warchief stayed with the young troll until the end.

Tul'ka's right hand gently clutched her prized necklace, as if it were the only thing anchoring her soul to its body. Thrall sat next to her, gazing up at the moon, brooding deeply over the day when he could lay down his hammer, and raise a family in a world of peace...a world where children such as Tul'ka would not receive such cruel fates.

A small whisper broke him free from his pondering.

"Thrall...will dere...always be...war?"

Thrall, shocked for a moment, wondering briefly if she had read his mind, turned his gaze to her, and gave an answer filled with more truth then anything he had ever uttered before.

"I do not know for certain, child."

He turned his gaze back to the moon, a small sigh leaving his lips as the weight of what he had told the troll began to weigh upon his large shoulders. His eyes distantly gazed to the white orb in the dark sky, as if it were a beacon of hope.

"It be nice...if one day...dere...be...peace..."

A small hand suddenly softly gripped his. Thrall turned his head to reply, believing she wanted an answer.

"I do no-"

His words caught in his throat. The troll's eyes had glazed over, locked looking up into the beautiful night sky that danced around the full moon.

The shocked look upon the Warchief's was unmeasurable to anything he had experienced in his past of vicious battles and losses.

Here, a suffering child had passed from grave battle wounds, without anyone, even he, noticing.

It was now, that he noticed that her free hand hand gripped his tightly, had not been in seeking an answer.

It had been seeking safety as death came to tear her from this mortal world.

A shaky, shocked breath left his dry lips, as the reality of the small soul leaving without his noticing came crashing down upon him like a stampeding kodo.

With the heaviest of hearts, he orc took a large hand, and gently, closed her eyes. He slowly spoke as he bowed his head in respect to the little troll that sacrificed everything to protects he Horde, her only remaining family.

"One day, child, I will make sure your wish comes true."

His head remained bowed, as he allowed the feelings of sorrow and lose over flow him, as the young troll's spirit traveled to whatever lay in the beyond.

From the cover of the pine trees' shadows, an agile form watched the Orc from her hiding spot amongst the forest. She lingered for a moment longer, a foreign feeling growing in her breast as she watched the Orc mourn the loss of the small troll, before wheeling on her feet and disappearing in to the dark embrace of the forest.

* * *

The high elf, dressed in a blue ranger's uniform, smirked as she raced back through the woods, as swift as an arrow. Her petite feet making very little sound upon the forest's carpet of pine needles. When she broke into a clearing her blue gaze fell upon the lilac-colored Kaldorei woman. The elf lay, in what seemed to be a peaceful sleep, strewn out in a slightly elegant way across a large, tree-stump. Night elven tattoos came down from her eyes, their forest green coloring contrasting with her lilac-complected skin. Light green hair, fell around her face, and the the moon shaped cornet upon her forehead. Her tall, lean body, half hidden under the emerald cloak that shrouded her like a blanket, was clad in light green armor, that revealed much of her torso.

However, there was something different about her...something that set her apart from other elves. Besides her unusual height, even for a Kaledorien, were the golden-cream colored horns that protruded from the green tresses.

The ranger approached, on silent steps, halting before the stump. She lightly fell to one knee, raising a hand up toward the figure, her palm upwards. Her full, pink lips open as her musical voice flowed out.

"My Lady, I have return."

The lady's eyes groggily open, and from their slits came a brilliant silver glow, as if they were tiny moons. She slowly pulled herself up into a semi-sitting position. She stretched her arms in a "t" shape, and gave a mildly-large, content yawn, as if she were a house cat awakening from it's afternoon nap. As her stretched mouth slowly returned to its normal size, her deep-purple lips stretched into a blissful smile.

"So you have, my little ranger. Now," She placed her gloved hand into the ranger's smaller, graceful palm. She quietly inhaled slightly, and gently shut her eyes once more, exhaling, as the images of the Undercity, the battle, a banshee, her sister, a child, the Orc, and the dead troll shot across her closed eyes. She slowly withdrew her hand from the high elf's palm, not yet allowing her eye lids to slide open again.

She ran a hand across her cheek, traveling up into the jungle of green hair, as a

"The souls will be collected soon..."

"This bloodshed was inevitable, both you and I know this."

The silver eyes shot open in surprise, as she craned her neck to peer into the forest to her right only for her gaze to fall upon the unmistakable blue eyes that were framed by lush brunette hair that fell in two braids onto a toned chest. A blue dragon tattoo controlled one unarmored shoulder, while the right was clad in a shoulder-guard with a glass ball at the center. Contained within the transparent orb, were sands from the Hourglass of Time, a sacred artifact of the Bronze Draginflight.

And the only one with the self-control and powerful to handle the title of The Aspect of Time itself, stood before the Dreamer now, in the very flesh.

Nozdormu.

His blue eyes bore into her for what seemed to be ages, his gaze analyzing her carefully, before he slid his gaze to the ranger, whom was now standing in a defensive stance between himself and her mistress.

His eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Playing with these daydream shades, again, Ysera? Have you any idea what you could do if the wrong beings laid their gazes upon this one's form?"

His chiding tone made Ysera feel as if he were trying to reprimand her as if she were a whelpling.

She rolled her shoulders, showing his curt remarks had no effect on her.

"I am well aware of the repercussions my powers can bring," She gave him a long, cool look with her moon-like eyes. "As you are aware of what your's will bring one day."

A low growl forms in the man's throat, sounding more of that of a dragon then a mere man's. The Dreamer, however, ignores his displeasure, as she continues.

"Also, it was approved by the Aspects that I use the shade of Sylvanas's living form," she gestured to the shade before her, the details correct to the last stitch upon her leather armor,"to adjust her daughter into the coming transition. We all know what is at stake if we fail to align the pieces properly."

Norzdormu growls at her again, "We are toying upon thin, cracking ice! You especially,Ysera! I believe you've been in your own world of dreams for far too long!"

The cool facade snaps for a moment, as Ysera hissed in a cold mix of annoyance and building rage.

"At least I am not hoping through time to escape the present reality!"

The Aspect of Time didn't try to mask the growl of enragement that was building into a roar.

"How dare you speak to me about fleeing from reality, 'Dreamer'!"

Just as Ysera shot to her feet in fury, and Nozdormu was beginning to advance from the other side of the clearing, a white light, like a blazing sun, caused both to shield their eyes from it. They could feel warmth from it's brightness, and even behind their shut eyes they could see the light that illuminated the area.

And just as suddenly as it came, it burned away. Gone, in the blink of an eye.

A calm, melodic voice flowed through breeze around them. A carefree edge lingering on it's words.

"Come now, Time and Dream. Can we not settle this like the proper Aspects we are? Wouldn't want to let your Titans down now, would you?"

Ysera felt her stomach give a mixed squeeze of surprise, disbelief, and the hint of fear. Slowly, she lowered her arms out of the stance they had taken to shield her eyes from the light. And cautiously, opened her eyes once more.

In the area between where she and her shade of Sylvanas were stationed near the stump, and where Nozdormu now stood in a rigid posture, was now commanded by the small, somewhat frail looking, girl of no more then 19 years of age.

Here figure looked as thin and agile as an elf's, however, human ears could just barely be made out beneath the long tresses of snow white hair, that curled and fell right to the small of her back. Her pale skin made her appear to be made from porcelian, clad in a white dress that covered everything that would make her appear impure if left out to be seen by all. Her features carved in by a master doll-crafter, as her nose crinkled in just the right way, and dimples appeared along with her smile. Her eyes, a blue that would make one believe she were either dead or blind, twinkled like stars with amusement. And her pale, pink lips were curved in coy laughter, as if her mother had playfully scolded her for playing in her makeup.

She tilted her snow head to the side, as she glanced between the lady in green and the man within bronze.

"Fighting will not get anything done. What has happened, has already come and gone. All we can do," she snapped her eyes back to Nozdormu, just as he was opening his lips to interrupt her, "Isn't that correct, Time?"

Stunned, the aspect of time attempted to recover by closing his mouth and merely nodding, which earned him a giggle of pleasure from the girl.

Ysera, still slightly bewildered but more composed, returned to her sitting position on the stump, casually crossing one leg over the other.

"Tell me, Watcher, why have you strayed from the Gate? Why not send another of your flight as you do in the past?"

The dreamer was rewarded with a sigh of boredom.

"Oh come now, Ysera, you of all dragons know how utterly dull being in our own worlds can become sometimes. I only wanted to stretch my wings a bit."

As if to prove a point, the girl gave a large stretch, giving a sound of satisfaction as she did so.

Ysera, shaking her head as she both understood but also disapproved the Watcher's actions.

"You know, Ysera..."

The Kaledorien jumped, as she snapped her head up to find the girl sitting beside her.

"He is right in a way...," she rose her hand out to the shade of the Windrunner, whom hesitantly placed her gloved hand into the girl's.

Ysera's eyes looked into Sylvanas's. Even though it was a shade created through the Dream, it contained all of Sylavanas' former memories, thoughts and feelings before she died.

And the look in her eyes mimicked the one the real one had shown as the undead steed of Arthas charged toward her.

"Therefore, her part is over."

Faster then anyone could comprehend, the girl grasped the ranger's hand in her own, white talons seeming to emerge from he fingers, as the sliced through the glove into the skin beneath.

A scream of agony escaped the shades lips, as she withered and squirmed, like an animal in a trap, trying in desperation to free herself from the girl's grasp.

Ysera gazed in horror, as her eyes locked with the elf's pained blue eyes. She could feel the bile rising in her throat, as she tried attempted to break the connection that was paining the creature so.

But just before she could separate their hands, Sylvanas's screaming vanished, as her body vanished in a tiny burst of light.

As Ysera sat there, somewhat stunned over something that never truly existed being taken from the world, Nozdormu approached the the girl, whom was morphing her hand back to a normal human's.

His voice tired to remain cool as he addressed her.

"Fiorene."

The girl looked up at him, a smile renewing upon her face. He cleared his throat, rousing whatever authority he had over this being.

"Fiorene, isn't is time you returned to the Gate? The Noire's can only handle so much in your absence...especially after tonight."

Fiorene sighed, as she mentally weighed the logic of the Aspect of Time's words. Finally, she nodded, speaking with a voice millenniums more mature then the demeanor she had just displayed.

"You are correct, Nozdormu, it is time I returned." She stood, and began to quietly depart into the pine forest before them, however, she stopped and glanced over her shoulder at the two of them.

"If you continue to be this divided in her coming, then you will merely become obstacles in her path."

She began walking again, the shadows of the pine trees already beginning to engulf her.

"And she will not hesitate to remove you."

And she was gone.

Ysera sighed in slight relief. Nozdormu also released a breath he seemed to be holding, as he sat with his back to her on the stump.

"What do we do, Nozdormu? What CAN we do?"

He gave another long sigh, as he mulled it over slowly.

"The only thing we can do, Ysera. Wait and protect what exists now."

Ysera opened her mouth to reply, but before the breath of the words had left her lips, two bronze drakes appeared from what seemed to be almost thin air. Between them stood an hourglass as tall as a male human.

The larger of the two spoke as clearly as he could, as he was clearly shaken from time traveling on top of whatever caused the alarm to burn in his eyes.

"My lord! It has happened! The Infinite Dragonflight have made their move! She has been taken!"

Ysera whipped around in utter bewilderment, only to see Nozdormu stand and give his orders.

"Find exactly when they have taken her. We might be able to use it to set the pieces into motion. Do not let her be lost in the time streams! Go! NOW!"

The dragons nodded in unison, and the hourglass glowed a bright, golden light, and then they were gone.

The Aspect of Time gazed down at the Dreamer, dread and determination filling his eyes.

"And so it has begun. Let us hope, that the odds are in our favor."

And with that, he vanished, leaving She of the Dream, to worry about a time that may or may-not have already come to pass.

**And there we have it :D chapter one of many :D this story is going to unfold in ways I hope and pray that you all will love :D until next time then :) remember to rate and review! This story only happens because of YOU all :D **


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